the night was to be a jolly one--how those young American devils were
singing!... so _vive l'amour_ and _vive la jeunesse!_ With which simple
philosophy and a twinkle of satisfaction Joseph had tucked away his gold
piece--and waited.

Ten minutes! Fifteen minutes! An unconscionably _long time when you have a
delicious sole à la Regence_ getting cold on your hands. Joseph knocked
discreetly, then again after a decent pause, and finally, weary of waiting,
he opened the door with an official cough of warning and stepped inside the
room. A moment later he started back, his eyes fixed with horror.

"_Grand Dieu!_" he cried.

"You saw the body, the man's body?" questioned the commissary.

"Yes, sir," answered the waiter, his face still pale at the memory.

"And the woman? Where was the woman?"

"Ah, I forgot," stammered Joseph. "She had come out of the room before
this, while I was waiting. She asked where the telephone was, and I told
her it was on the floor below. Then she went downstairs--at least I
suppose she did, for she never came back."

"Did anyone see her leave the hotel?", demanded Pougeot sharply, looking at
the others.

"It's extraordinary," answered the doctor, "but no one seems to have seen
this woman go out. M. Gibelin made inquiries, but he could learn nothing
except that she really went to the telephone booth. The girl there